


keep you like an oath

by SummerFrost



Series: Suitehearts [15]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Autism, Blow Jobs, Daddy Kink, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Light Dom/sub, Love, M/M, Panic Attacks, Summertime Antics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-15
Updated: 2019-04-15
Packaged: 2020-01-13 15:17:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18471586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SummerFrost/pseuds/SummerFrost
Summary: Normally Miley doesn't really like the off-season that much--but this time it means two months with Jack.





	keep you like an oath

**Author's Note:**

> I am delighted to share more Mileymann with the world!
> 
> Endless love to the #hellsquad and agrossunderstatement, who beta'd!
> 
> Title from *dramatic drumroll* Fall Out Boy!

**June 2019**

Jack lets himself in with the key Miley mailed him, looking down to unhook Muffin from his leash, and curses when Miley jumps up from the couch and leaps into his arms.

Which is fair, since Miley said he was gonna be asleep when Jack got in.

“Baby,” Jack scolds softly, even though he's holding Miley so tightly that he's shaking a little bit. “You should be in bed.”

Miley murmurs, “Sorry, Daddy, I couldn't sleep.”

Jack just hums and pulls away a little so he can nuzzle their noses together.

Miley's voice breaks. “I missed you so much.”

“Me too,” Jack answers. “Can I kiss you?”

Miley does it for him, gently at first and then more urgent. Fuck, it's been so  _ long _ and they've had a decent amount of Skype sex but there's nothing like this, his daddy's hand in his hair and their stubble scraping together. 

It's so early in the morning and not much better on the other coast, especially if Jack didn't sleep on the plane, but Daddy is the one who backs Miley into the wall, stepping over where Muffin's laid down near the doorway, and presses up against him, so it's probably okay.

Miley drags his thumbs across the stubble on Jack's jaw and asks, “Will you get on your knees for me, Daddy?”

And, fuck, Jack goes down so fast that Miley's glad he has carpet, and his daddy has to steady his hips so he doesn't tilt over when his knees go weak.  _ God, god. He's so easy.  _ Miley wants it so badly.

“Did you miss me, Daddy?” he asks, letting his voice shake. It really adds to the whole atmosphere, and he's not sure he could stop it, anyway, with how badly his chest aches.

Daddy looks up at him, thumbs pressing lightly into his hip bones, and licks his lips. “Of course, baby.”

Miley tugs on Daddy's hair a little and swallows. “Show me?”

His daddy does, tugging down his sweatpants and underwear and getting his mouth around Miley's dick before it's even all the way hard. 

Miley whimpers, petting Daddy's hair, trying to not come right then. He could, he thinks. Not even from the blowjob—which, don't get him wrong, is great.

From the way his daddy looks up with those pupil-blown blue eyes and stares right into Miley's, and Miley has to thunk his head back against the wall way too hard to keep it together. It's sparking up and down his entire spine, or his bloodstream, or something else he was supposed to learn in school instead of doodling hockey plays. It hurts and he's so in love and Daddy takes him all the way down his throat and moves one hand off his hips to play with his balls.

“Fuck—Daddy, oh,  _ fuck,”  _ Miley whines. He's a little worried about the neighbors. “You're so, so good at this, Daddy.”

Daddy whines too, his eyes squeezing shut. He pushes his head up into Miley's hand, so Miley goes back to tugging on his hair.

“No one makes me feel like this,” Miley tells him. His hips are hitching on reflex and Jack said face-fucking was green, so he lets them. “I didn't—oh, God, Jack, I love you so  _ much.  _ I want—I want—”

_ To feel this way forever, never let go, marry you. _

“I wanna come, Daddy. I'm gonna—”

Miley breaks off in a gasp when he does, stuttering his hips and slumping against the wall. His daddy pins him there to hold him up, swallowing everything down and letting Miley's softening dick fall from his mouth.

Miley drags his fingers down the side of Jack's face. “Will you come up here?”

Jack does, letting go of his hold on Miley slowly, and asks, “Can I kiss you again?”

“Yeah,” Miley breathes.

It stays soft this time, the kissing. Jack cups his cheek and licks his bottom lip, not any more tongue than that. Miley can still taste himself, though. He's everywhere in his daddy's mouth.

He pulls away and asks, “Want me to get you off?”

Jack nuzzles Miley's cheek. “Yes, please.”

Miley hums happily. “How?”

“Can I show you?” Jack asks, and Miley hums again. He takes Miley's hand by the wrist and tucks it under the band of his track pants, folding the fingers around his dick. “Like this.”

Miley starts slow, sort of exploratory. He swipes his thumb over the head where precome's been beading, then drags it down the length. Jack sighs, his own hand falling away.

“I love you,” Miley whispers again. He's still slouching against the wall, so he has to tip his face up to ask for another kiss.

Jack gives it to him, leaning deeply into it. His breath is starting to come a little short. “I'm gonna—make a mess, baby.”

“That's okay,” Miley tells him. He laughs a little. “Unless these're your favorite pants.”

“No—ah—nope.” Jack falls forward and braces against the wall, his face pressed lightly against the side of Miley's head. “That's—they're—can you finger me?”

Miley nudges his index finger against Jack's lips, still working him over with his other hand. “Help me out, Daddy.”

Jack sucks with just as much enthusiasm as he gave Miley's dick.  _ 110% Zimmermann.  _ Miley giggles.

Jack spits Miley's finger out and raises an eyebrow. “Something funny, baby?”

Miley's face heats up. He slips his hand down the back of Jack's pants, over the meat of his ass, and presses his wet finger against Jack's hole. “Sorry, Daddy.”

Jack moans when Miley pushes his finger in, though—just barely, just being a tease for his daddy—and presses his forehead to the wall again.

“Aww, you take it so good for me, Daddy!” Miley teases, slipping in a little farther. He tightens his grip on Jack's dick. “Would you do anything for me, Daddy?”

“Yes,” Jack whimpers. “Milo, anything.”

Miley turns his head and presses his lips against Jack's ear and whispers, “Would you come for me, Daddy?”

Jack does. 

Miley catches most of it on his hand, but some of it definitely gets on the pants. 

“Fuck,” Jack wheezes. 

His arms are shaking from holding himself up, so Miley offers, “You can lean on me.”

Jack collapses against him with a laugh. “That's even better in person, eh?”

Miley laughs too. His come-covered hand is bent at an awkward angle between their bodies. He cups the other hand against Jack's ass to have something to hold onto. “Yeah. Wow.”

“I love you,” Jack says. “Can we sleep in tomorrow?”

Miley wriggles his wrist and frees his hand without smearing  _ too  _ much bodily fluid across Jack's stomach. “Yes, please.”

Jack pushes off the wall and stretches, smiling softly at Miley. “Can I be the big spoon tonight? You can hold Sprinkles.”

Miley grins. He grabs a dirty towel off the living room floor and cleans his hands off on it, but he should probably wash them, too. “Deal.”

They get cleaned up and ready for bed, locking Muffin in the guest bedroom in case he doesn't get along with Ost, and then Jack tucks Miley against his body so perfectly that Miley kind of wants to cry. 

It still takes Miley forever to fall asleep, though, because even though cuddling Jack is steadily becoming his more and more favorite thing, he's gotten really used to sleeping alone and things are kind of hot and sticky with two people in one bed.

So he's sort of half-conscious when Jack whispers, “Mo, are you awake?”

“Mm.” Miley covers Jack's hand over his stomach with his own.  _ What's wrong? _

“Sorry,” Jack tells him, just as quietly. “I just, uh. I've got something to tell you.”

Miley squeezes Jack's hand.  _ I'm listening. _

“I don't know if you knew.” Jack takes a deep breath; it shakes on the way out. “But I wasn't in a good place when you met me.”

_ Oh.  _ Miley opens his eyes and shakes his head, shifting so that he can lace their fingers together.

Jack squeezes Miley's hand back now, but he shifts so there's more space between their bodies. It makes Miley's heart pang, but he lets him go. 

Slowly, Jack says, “I forgot what else life could look like. Besides, uh. Being angry at myself. I didn't...like the person I was.”

_ I liked you.  _ Miley whines quietly, closing his eyes again, and Jack shushes him gently.

“No, it's okay,” he soothes, even though it isn't. He shifts the arm trapped under Miley's body so he can brush his fingers against his cheek. “I just. Didn't know who else I could be. Until you reminded me.”

Miley turns his head and kisses at Jack's fingertips.

“I wanted to be the person you were hoping I was,” Jack whispers. He drags his thumb across Miley's bottom lip. “And, Milo, I—I don't think that was fair to you. Like I was... pretending. I'm sorry. But I’ve been trying.”

And the thing is that, like. Miley's never, ever been able to understand how people could be  _ bad,  _ in the abstract sense. It's like his brain just glitches out, when he tries to picture someone wanting to hurt someone else or be spiteful or cruel. And he knows, logically, that Bitty wouldn't avoid everything to do with Jack and Parse wouldn't be so fucking sad without a reason. But he can't picture it when it didn’t happen to him. The hope gets in the way.

It's the one thing Miley's dad ever really tried to change about him.  _ You can't always be so naive, Milo,  _ he said.  _ It'll hurt you.  _

Miley's been hurt lots of times, but he doesn't think his faith in other people is the problem.

He takes a breath and wriggles in Jack's arms to wake himself up enough to make the words come, and he whispers them into Jack's palm. “You’re him now.”

Jack's face is wet when he buries it in Miley's hair, but Miley doesn't mind.

 

~*~

 

The next day, they take Muffin for a walk downtown where there are a lot of pupper-friendly shops, and Miley finally gets to show Jack the city. Summer's the dry season, but Miley still stuffed an umbrella in Jack's bag just in case. It's nice, to not feel rushed. Miley isn't normally that into the off-season, because he misses hockey. But this year it means almost two months with Jack.

“We could go to Malcom's restaurant for lunch,” Miley is suggesting. “It's really good!”

Jack laughs. “Ah, you're sure I'm not barred from the premises?”

“No, why would—” but Miley's phone buzzes just then, and, “Oh, shit.”

**_Cody!! (12:31 PM):_ ** _  Hey are we still on for coffee today _

Miley  _ knew  _ he forgot to put something on his calendar.

“Is everything okay?” Jack asks. 

Miley rocks up onto the balls of his feet. “Hey, Daddy,” he asks in his best  _ look how cute I am _ voice, “do you wanna meet Cody?”

“Cody?” Jack repeats. “Oh, that's your, uh. You guys used to date, right?”

**_Milo (12:35 PM):_ ** _ Omg I totally forgot I'm so sorry >.< _

**_Milo (12:35 PM):_ ** _ Can I bring Jack?? _

**_Milo (12:35 PM):_ ** _ And muffin _

Miley says, “Nah, we just had sex sometimes. We broke that off before I started dating you.”

**_Cody!! (12:36 PM):_ ** _ You're lucky you're devastatingly attractive, goof _

**_Cody!! (12:36 PM):_ ** _ And why would you bring muffins to a coffee shop _

“Oh, okay,” Jack says. He reaches down and gives Muffin some head pats. “That sounds good, though. I'd like to meet them.”

**_Milo (12:37 PM):_ ** _ No Muffin is a dog _

**_Milo (12:37 PM):_ ** _ But I'll buy you a food muffin!! _

Miley gives Jack a quick hug, the most he feels like he can do in public, and tells him, “Thanks, Daddy. Sorry I'm changing plans.”

“Haha, that's okay.” Jack rubs the back of his neck and follows Miley as he sets off towards his and Cody's regular spot. “Uh, that reminds me of something, though.”

Miley keeps power-walking. “What?”

“Euh. Sorry if it's weird to ask. But have you slept with anyone else since?” Jack asks.

Miley looks over at him thoughtfully, then almost knocks over a patio table when he walks directly into it. 

“Careful,” Jack tells him.

Miley laughs as he regains his balance and falls back in step with Jack. “That's not weird to ask,” he says. “I feel like that's a normal thing.”

Jack says, “Oh, okay.”

“I haven't,” Miley answers. He could've, obviously. Like, that's why they agreed on an open relationship; it just hasn’t happened, which is actually weird. “I mean, I've danced with some people?”

Jack says, “Oh, uh. Okay.”

“Have you?” Miley asks.

Jack shakes his head, smiling a little. “Ah, no. I guess I haven't really been looking to.”

“Hm. Me neither!” Miley says. He smiles back. “Weird.”

Jack does the smile he normally does when he’s a little confused, but also calls Miley cute right after. It shows off his dimples. 

“What?” Miley asks. He gets one and a half steps into the intersection before Jack tugs him back onto the sidewalk. A car with the horn blaring zooms past the spot Miley was definitely about to be. Oops.

“Sorry,” Jack says, dropping Miley’s arm. “I didn’t, uh—have time to ask.”

“That’s okay—yikes,” Miley answers. He reaches over and pats Muffin’s head. “What were you thinking about?”

Jack shrugs. “Nothing. You’re just...really cute, eh?”

Miley claps his hands together.  _ Knew it. _

That makes Jack chuckle, and they cross when the light changes again. Miley can see Cody sitting at an outdoor table on the far corner—he starts to wave to them, but Jack is lifting his camera. He told Miley he doesn’t normally take pictures of strangers, but Miley can see why he’s making an exception. 

Cody’s hair is freshly cut and electric blue again, and the sun is glinting right off it. They’re hunched over a coffee cup while they read an actual real life newspaper—probably the comic strips—with one leg pulled up on the chair and the tawny, bare skin of their arms basically  _ glittering _ everywhere the light touches. 

It’s kind of a lot, honestly. Miley waits for Jack’s camera to finish clicking before he calls out, “Hey! Cody!”

They look up and do an eye roll and a smile at the same time. Miley jogs over and pulls a third chair up to the two-person table, and laughs when they ask, “Hey, goofball. Your man didn’t fuck any energy out of you?”

“Nope!” Miley answers brightly. 

Jack sits down and loops Muffin’s leash around his arm. “Sorry,” he tells Cody, “I’m not sure it’s possible, eh? I’m Jack.”

Cody says, “Hey, Jack, I’m Cody,” and then, “Also, Jesus Christ on a cracker, how are you  _ both  _ simultaneously the hottest man I’ve ever seen?”

“Ah, thanks?” Jack actually blushes, which is really fucking adorable.

“No, seriously,” Cody insists. “Milo, did you pick him from a Lumber Daddy catalogue? Does he keep the flannel on when he spanks—”

Miley laughs, but Jack starts to stutter. “Ah, I didn’t—did you—”

“Aw, don’t worry, Milo’s so cagey about whatever stupid hot sex you’re having that I’ve  _ actually  _ considered murdering him.” Cody’s metal chair screeches when they push it back and kick their feet up on the little table. “But, as you know, I’m sure, if you wanna have anything resembling sex with Milo, you’ve gotta write a three page essay about every kink you’ve ever had and submit a resume for review.”

“There’s no  _ resume,”  _ Miley protests. He drums his fingers on the table. Sometimes he forgets how much Cody likes to chirp people, which he actually really likes about them, but he worries Jack will take it differently, especially since it took Miley a long time to get used to when Cody was joking.

Jack taps his fingers next to Miley’s hand on the table, then just barely brushes his knee against Miley’s thigh. Miley nods, pressing into the contact. 

“Anyway,” Cody says. “Point is, I pegged you ‘cause I know Milo. And, tragically for us both, I am entirely  _ not  _ Renny-material.”

“I think you’d make a great parent,” Jack deadpans. 

Miley snickers. 

Cody sighs really loudly. “Oh, Christ, you’ve got the same sense of humor, too.”

Miley leans in really close, bracing his forearms against the table, and whispers loudly on purpose so that Jack will still hear. “I really like him.”

“Me too,” Cody whispers back, flicking their eyes over to Jack with a smirk.

That makes Miley relax a little bit. He leans back in his seat and scoots his chair so that more of his leg is pressed up against Jack’s. 

“So, Cody,” Jack asks, “what, uh, do you do?”

“Oh, I’m still a student at UWash,” Cody says. “And thanks to weird psuedo-nepotism, I've got a gig at the Nelson Foundation. But I’ve decided I’m ignoring all of my problems this summer, so don’t ask me about any of that.”

Jack chuckles. “Fair enough.” He shifts more into Miley’s space and lowers his voice to ask, “Can I put my arm around you?”

“Sure, but,” Miley looks around, “are you sure you’re okay here?”

Jack says, “If you are.”

Miley skims his fingers down the length of Jack’s arm.  _ Yeah. _

Jack drapes his arm across the back of Miley’s chair, his thumb brushing rhymically against Miley’s shoulder. 

And it feels really nice, is the thing. Even if it takes Miley an extra second to work through the block he gets sometimes—like, reassuring himself that people can’t look at them and tell everything about them. Because after, Miley gets to just feel like a person introducing his boyfriend to his friend, talking about normal problems. (Even if they’re not normal people. Even if he doesn’t want to be.)

“Uh, hey,” says some stranger. Miley looks over and realizes there are two maybe-teenagers who approached their table at some point. One of them—the one who isn’t talking—is wearing Cap’s jersey. “Sorry to bug you, but my buddy’s a huge fan. Can we get a picture?”

Jack’s leg goes all rigid, but Miley knows how to handle this part. He smiles really wide, like people seem to like, and says, “Sure! Can you do me one favor, though?”

The two teens look between each other. The same one as before says, “Um, sure.”

“Just don’t post any pics with our friend in them, okay?” Miley asks. “That’s not bros.”

Everyone looks over at Cody, who does a slow wave with one hand that arcs across their face. 

“Uh, no prob,” the talker says. 

Miley gets up from his seat, then, squeezing Jack’s knee while he does. Jack stands too, but not before ruffling the fur around Muffin’s ears, handing his leash to Cody, and telling him to stay. Miley asks, “By the way, what are your names?”

The one who’s been talking says, “Oh, I’m Jacob. This is Peter.”

“H-hi,” Peter says. Both of them look young, but he looks younger, with big glasses and a round face. Miley wants to ask to pinch his cheeks, but that’s probably a lot of kinds of weird. He just really loves kids, okay? “Um, thank you, Mister—Mister Karlsson. Sorry to bother you.”

“It’s okay to be nervous,” Jack tells him, which makes Miley look over in surprise. He kind of expected Jack would want to stay quiet. “But you don’t need to be. Milo’s really nice.”

Miley’s stomach flutters. He taps his hand against his thigh, rapidly and just for a second. He can’t hear Jack chuckling, but he can feel the way his body shifts next to him, like he might be. 

Peter turns really red  _ really  _ fast, but he also smiles a little bit. “Um, okay.”

“Do you want a picture with Muffin, too?” Miley asks. “He’s a really famous dog.”

Jack actually laughs at that. “He’s not.” 

“You never know!” Miley points out, trying to sound extra cheerful to be encouraging. He looks at Peter even though he’s technically talking to Jack. “He’s just waiting for his big break.”

Both of the teenagers laugh, and the one called Jacob takes out his cell phone. “Um, thank you. Can we…?”

“Do you want me to take it?” Jack offers. 

Cody speaks up from across the table. “I’ve got it, slugger. Get your pretty face in that picture.”

Everyone laughs, but Peter’s face gets redder again and he looks down at his feet. Maybe that means something familiar, but Miley won’t assume. 

They take the pictures, including some with Muffin, and then Miley pulls out his Sharpie  _ (also  _ stashed in Jack’s bag) and offers to sign stuff. Normally he doesn’t unless people ask, but—like he said, he loves kids. He’s never gotten along that well with people his own age, but kids usually like him a lot, as a rule. It’s easy to make them smile. 

“Um, Mister Zimmermann?” Peter asks. Jack sticks his tongue out while he finishes his signature and hums. “I, um, I like your beard. Why didn’t you shave it this year?”

Miley tries to not giggle, but it just comes out even higher pitched. Jack huffs out a laugh and looks up at him; his eyes are all crinkled up around the edges. “Someone I love asked me nicely not to,” he says. “But reviews have been mixed. Do you think I look like a lumberjack?”

_ “Ha,”  _ Cody says. “Lumber _ jack.” _

Miley doesn’t get it until everyone else is done laughing, but it’s still pretty funny.

 

~*~

 

It’s a couple days later when Miley’s sitting on the couch and trying to decide between two movies on Netflix, clicking back and forth and back and forth between them, and he  _ knows  _ he’s stuck in a stupid brain loop but hasn’t gotten all the way to fixing it, until Jack calls from the kitchen, “Baby, let’s just watch  _ Fly Away Home  _ again, eh?” and Miley thinks,  _ I want to tell you. _

He clicks over to the movie first, though, and then presses pause and play and pause again and tries to keep himself from anxiety-stimming with his other hand against his thigh, but it just makes it worse. Even though it’ll all be fine. 

Miley’s so  _ sure  _ all of a sudden, is the thing. Like he gets about things sometimes, and he basically never regrets it once he knows—like when he finally asked Jack about kink. But being sure doesn’t mean his body isn’t freaking out.

Miley closes his eyes and thinks about Jack. Not Jack in the other room making sandwiches—Jack asking before he touches, and Jack cancelling surprises for the rest of maybe-if-Miley’s-lucky forever, and Jack whispering,  _ I didn’t like the person I was.  _ If Jack can tell him that—

“Do you care about triangles versus rectangles?” Jack asks, walking back into the room. “I cut one of each.”

“I’m autistic,” Miley says. He’s staring at the TV, and the only reason he can tell that Jack reacts at all is that he puts the plates down on the coffee table heavier than normal.

“Oh, okay.” Jack nudges one of the plates closer to Miley, then sits down next to him on the couch. “Is there, uh. Something I could be doing better? For you.”

Something feels like it’s working its way up through Miley’s chest. He tries to swallow, but it just makes the noise that comes out sound worse, and he smushes his face into Jack’s shoulder. “You do so great, Daddy. That’s why I told you.”

“Milo,” Jack says softly. “Can I hold you?”

Miley shakes his head.  _ Too much.  _ But he reaches his fingers out until they hit Jack’s thigh and searches for his hand. 

Jack helps him find it, shifting his arm and resting it right above where Miley is—he waits until Miley takes it before saying, “I’m, uh. I need some help, here. I’m worried I upset you.”

“No!” Miley promises. He tentatively reaches an arm around Jack’s waist, testing how it feels—not too much. “No, I—the opposite? I just, um. Haven’t told anyone in a really long time. Sorry.” 

Jack squeezes his hand lightly. “Don't be. Why haven't you?”

“Because, um, I know I'm weird and, like—a lot of people don't know what to do about it?” Miley explains. He snuggles himself closer to Jack's side and doesn't look away from the same movie he's had Jack watch three times in the past two months. “But I think that—being autistic is just being  _ me. _ But people used to treat me like I gave them an explanation.”

Jack lifts his thumb to run it across Miley's knuckles. “...I'm glad you trust me. I love you.”

Miley takes a deep breath, nuzzling Jack's neck. “Um. You can hold me now. If you still want?”

“It's like I said before,” Jack reminds him as he shifts, pulling Miley into his arms and holding him against his chest. “I always want to be around you.”

Miley kisses the closest place on Jack's arm that he can reach.  _ I hope you mean it. I hope it lasts forever. _

 

~*~

 

**_Dad (1:44 PM):_ ** _ Sup hos I'm coming home early from Portlnd let's pizza nite _

Miley claps his hands together a bunch, until Jack looks up from his soup and asks, “What's up?”

“Nelly's in town again!” Miley says. He stops clapping so he can pick the phone back up. “We normally hangout all summer? But he's been busy a  _ lot  _ and he won't say why, but now you can finally come to pizza night!”

“Oh,” says Jack.

Miley starts to type out an entire row of exclamation points, but then he remembers how annoying that is for Siri to read out loud, so he just sends the one.

**_Bitty (1:50 PM):_ ** _ Mal and I will be there! But if Parse puts anchovies on the pizza again I will rescind my baking services _

**_Milo (1:51 PM):_ ** _ ! _

**_Dad (1:52 PM):_ ** _ Ur in rook? _

Miley looks over at Jack. “We can go, right? I really miss everyone and you haven't even met Mal, he's so cool, and then we'll really be like one big squad, you know?”

“Uh, yeah. That—that's fine.” Jack smiles quickly and then looks back down at his bowl.

Miley frowns. Something feels a little off, but he can't tell what yet. “Um, are you sure?’

Jack swirls his spoon around the edge of the bowl which makes a yikes grindy sound and says, “Yeah, no, let's—do we need to bring anything?”

Miley smiles again. “I'll ask!”

**_Milo (1:54 PM):_ ** _ Yeah!! _

**_Milo (1:54 PM):_ ** _ Do we need to bring anything? _

“Thanks, Daddy,” Miley says. He leans across the table and gives Jack a kiss on the cheek, nuzzling with his nose before he pulls away. “I'm excited!”

“Haha. Me too.” Jack carries his bowl over to the sink.

**_Other Dad :3 (1:55 PM):_ ** _ Bring cookies since Bittle won't be baking [sunglasses emoji] _

**_Bitty (1:56 PM):_ ** _ KENT. PARSON. _

“Oh boy,” says Miley. “I've gotta go to the store.”

 

~*~

 

Miley some time after lunch with Jack, just kind of watching TV and stuff. He's pretty horny, but Jack doesn't seem that in the mood, so he doesn't ask about it. He can always get himself off in the shower tonight if Jack doesn't wanna after the pizza party.

But anyway, then Jack says he wants to stay home from the store, so Miley tries to make a grocery list of other stuff he needs while he's out and asks Jack to find a cookie recipe they could make, because it seems pretty fun to actually bake it from scratch, especially if they're replacing like a pie or something from Bitty.

Jack sends five and asks Miley to get stuff for all of them, which is relatable but also maybe a little not a good idea.

Miley does it, though; it's important to Jack.

He tries to call Jack on the way home to get him to open the door, since it's a lot of groceries, but Jack doesn't answer his phone. Which is...weird. But Miley's basically a professional at the whole carrying way too many bags at once so you don't have to make two trips thing, so he manages, and when he gets the apartment door open, Jack is rifling through the kitchen cabinets wearing one of his gym shirts, which is doused in sweat.

“Um, hi?” Miley puts all the bags down. “Did you go for a run or something?”

Jack pulls a cookie tray out and sets it down on the stove top, hard. “Did you get all the ingredients?”

“Um, yeah. Jack, did you—”

“Good, thanks. I couldn't decide what to make. Parse is allergic to strawberries.” Jack looks over at Miley, running a hand through his damp hair. “Is anyone else allergic to anything? I tried to ask. Nelson isn't texting me.”

Miley rocks onto the balls of his feet.“I don't think so. Did you go for a run?”

“Yes,” Jack says. He must have just gotten back, because he's still breathing kind of hard.

“Um,” Miley asks, “a long one? Isn't it rest day?”

Jack's voice goes harsh. “I know how long I can run for, Milo.”

Miley takes a half-step backwards, which puts him basically against the door. “Um, I'm sorry.”

“Sorry. I just.” Jack stops there, though, and pulls out another baking sheet. “Needed something to do.”

Miley's not sure why he couldn't come to the store, then, except if maybe he didn't want to be around people. 

“Are you going to help me bake?” Jack asks, but not in a nice way. “We've got a lot to do.”

Maybe he doesn't wanna be around Miley, either.

“Is...is something wrong?” Miley asks, even though he picks up all the bags again and carries them into the kitchen. “Did I do something?”

Jack takes half the bags and sets them on the counter—something in a metal container clatters. He blinks at Miley, pausing for a second. “No, baby, I—fuck, sorry. Can we just—I just want to get this done now, and Bittle's probably not going to like them anyway, but if I—”

“I don't know how to help,” Miley says desperately.

“You could start by pulling the recipe up,” Jack tells him.

“That's not what I meant?” Miley's voice is wavering a little. He looks down in embarrassment.

“It's  _ fine,”  _ Jack insists. “Crisse, please, just do this for me.”

Miley closes his eyes and says, “Um. No.”

He can feel Jack staring at him. He holds his breath for a second, wondering if Jack will get mad, but then the tension snaps and Jack says, “That's okay. I'll do it. You can—you can relax, if you want, thanks for going to the store.”

“Jack, why don't we—” Miley opens his eyes and grabs the bags off the counter and sets them on the floor. “Um, can we just cuddle on the couch or something? We can bring store-bought cookies. It'll be easy and you won't have to worry.”

Jack looks at him but doesn’t answer right away. He picks up an entire cookie tray and then puts it down, then does the same thing to the oven—turns it off and then on again, and then turns it off and steps away from the whole place all at once.

“Sure,” he says. “Uh. Thanks.” 

Miley stands in place while he watches Jack walk past him and back into the living room. Muffin is sleeping under Ost’s cat tree, where Ost is also napping  _ (aww, cute),  _ but he lifts his head up when Jack comes in and does one of those tiny almost-barks.

Jack drops onto the couch and starts bouncing one of his legs. There’s like, a lot of perishables in the groceries, but Miley  _ so much _ can't deal with that right now. He follows Jack into the living room instead.

“Um, what should we watch?” Miley asks. He sits down next to Jack, but not close enough to touch, and starts stimming against the couch fabric right away. Whatever messy vibes are radiating from Jack are really starting to fuck with him, God.

It's like Jack's leg is bouncing so hard that it pushes him right back off the couch. “Maybe we should bake,” he says, getting halfway to the kitchen before he turns around. “I just feel like we should do something.”

“Um,” Miley stalls. “Oh, wait! Did you find out if we can bring Muffin? Since Nel—”

“Bittle doesn't want him there,” Jack says flatly.

Miley frowns. “Um, like he's worried about—”

Jack shoves his phone into Miley's hands and sits back down on the couch. He bounces his knee and runs both hands through his hair.

Miley thinks maybe that means he should look. The conversation with Bitty is pulled up, and he...doesn't on purpose, but he can read what their last few messages were too.

—-03/06/18—-

**_Jack (3:47 PM):_ ** _ Even if Shitty's there? _

**_Bittle :-) (6:33 PM):_ ** _ I told you we can't do this _

—-05/05/18—-

**_Jack (1:02 AM):_ ** _ I miss you. _

There's messages from today, now, too, starting a bit after Miley left for the store.

**_Jack (3:58 PM):_ ** _ Hi, sorry to bother you, but Nelson isn't answering his phone. We're wondering if it's okay to bring Muffin tonight. _

**_Jack (3:59 PM):_ ** _ I'm sure he'd love to see you :-) _

**_Bittle :-) (4:05 PM):_ ** _ Oh, haha! That's sweet, but you probably shouldn't. I mean, I wouldn't want him to see me again and get all confused, the poor thing _

“Oh,” Miley says. “I'm sorry. I know you like having Muffin with you.”

“It's fine.” Jack starts to get up again, then sits down. He laughs. “We should just bring him. It's Bittle's fucking problem, right? He's not even—he's  _ my  _ dog.”

“Um, yeah!” Miley agrees. “Maybe we could also call Nelly, 'cause sometimes he doesn't text but—”

Jack gets up for real. “I really think we should bake. I should bake. You can watch TV, baby. Fuck. I'm sorry. You wanted to cuddle. I can—I'll just get things in the oven—”

Muffin trots over and whines, then licks Jack's hand, and that's when Miley gets it.

“Jack,” he asks, “are you having a panic attack?”

“What? That's not how—” Jack's voice starts sharp and dies out. He looks at Miley with his mouth open. “Fuck.”

Miley says, “Tell me what to do.”

Jack sits down heavily, like he's staying this time. His head goes back in his hands and he stammers, “I—I don't know. This isn't—normally when I have them—my therapist said they could—but I didn't connect it?”

“Jack, breathe with me.” Miley kneels down in front of Jack, bracketing his hands on either side of Jack's body. His own heart rate is picking up, but he can do this for Jack. “Really slowly, okay? I'm—I'm here.”

He breathes in as slow as he can, and Jack starts to mirror him. Muffin whines again and rests his head on Jack's thigh, and Jack starts petting him.

“Um, you said therapist?” Miley asks after what feels like forever. “We could call them?”

“No, that's—it's okay.” Jack takes a ragged breath again, but follows it with a better one. “I'm not seeing her right now. I just went for a few months.”

Miley asks, “What does Muffin normally do?”

“He, uh. He lays on me,” Jack says. “But that's when I hyperventilate. I don't know if…”

“Will you try for me?” Miley asks. He smiles, but he's not sure if it's very encouraging.

Jack nods, though, and stretches out on the couch. He pets Muffin some more and closes his eyes, but Muffin just blinks up at him and paws at the side of the couch, like he's not sure what to do.

“It's okay,” Miley whispers. He pats the cushion near Muffin's head. “Up.”

Muffin thumps his tail on the ground and then jumps up onto the couch, which is actually really awkward because Muffin is, like, part St. Bernard and just super big and box-shaped, but instead of laughing like he means to, Miley just tears up a little bit with relief.

“Good boy,” Jack murmurs. He buries his hands in Muffin's fur as Muffin makes a  _ whuff  _ noise and lays on top of Jack's chest. “Thank you.”

Miley lays down on the carpet right next to the couch and stares up at the ceiling, breathing.

“What, uh. What're you doing?” Jack asks.

Miley says, “Being with you.”

 

~*~

 

Miley's not sure how long they stay like that; he thinks about a lot of stuff, like how Jack was upset this morning too and he didn't notice and how maybe Jack will never want to be around most of Miley's friends. It's okay, if he doesn't, but it's also not.

Eventually Jack murmurs something to Muffin and sits up slowly, still long-ways across the couch but with his back propped up against an armrest. Miley sits up too and rests a hand on the edge of the couch, just in case.

Jack takes it.

“Um, are you feeling better?” Miley asks. “Ish?”

Jack laughs softly. He rotates their hands, staring at his own thumb as it traces over Miley's knuckles. “Ish. Christ, Milo, I'm so sorry.”

“For what?” Miley asks.

Jack stops playing with Miley's fingers. “Uh. For all of it. For snapping at you, and that you had to, uh. See me like that.”

“I forgive you for the first part,” Miley says. He hugs his knees to his chest. “Um. You did hurt my feelings, though. But seeing you like that—it's okay.”

Jack shifts like he might say something, but Miley keeps talking. “Um, I mean, not  _ okay- _ okay. But you don't have to, um, apologize for having a panic attack? It's not your fault.”

“I feel so stupid that I didn't put it together,” Jack says. He drops Miley's hand to mess with his hair, then reaches for it again. “I just. Thought I was an asshole sometimes, when I got stressed. Not that I should be treating it, uh, as anxiety.”

Miley wants to be touching him so badly, but he's not sure if Jack wants that. He scoots closer to the couch so he can rest his cheek against it and tries to keep everything in his body.

“It's my fault, anyway,” he says. “I didn't notice you were upset this morning. You don't want to go, do you?”

“That's not your job,” Jack answers. “I'm supposed to tell you.”

Miley nods. “Why didn't you?”

“I wanted to make you happy,” Jack says. “I thought I'd keep it together, eh?”

Miley's heart does something weird. “We could've talked about it more.”

“Yes, I'm seeing the benefit in that now.” Jack laughs. “I...I will, next time.”

Miley nods again, tilting his head up to look at Jack's face. He looks so  _ tired.  _ “Um, I think we shouldn't go tonight.”

Jack tries to move, but his legs kind of flail when Muffin gets in the way. He ends up twisting from his torso instead, so that his whole upper-body is facing Miley when he says, “No, I can do this. It'll be fine.”

“Please don't lie to me again,” Miley begs—which feels stupid and dramatic after he says it, and he turns all the way around so he's staring at the TV and Jack can't see his face turning red.

Jack just says, “I'm sorry,” though, with his voice all quiet. He hesitates. “I'm...fuck. I just. I'm ashamed? I think—that I can't. It's just a pizza party.”

“Yeah!” Miley says. “It's not that important to go. We can stay home.”

“That's not what I meant by just,” Jack says. “Like. It, uh, it feels like it shouldn't be this hard.”

Miley shifts sideways again, his right side leaning against the couch so he can stare at Muffin. “But it is.”

Jack says, “Yeah. It is.”

“I hope you can hangout with everyone one day,” Miley tells him. “But it's okay, um, that it's not today. There's, um—there's a lot of stuff, that people wanted me to be ready for and I wasn't. It doesn't help.”

Jack moves around on the couch, but Miley can't see how. “Thank you. You should go without me tonight.”

Miley frowns, staring at the far end of the couch. “I'd rather stay with you.”

“I'm not going to be any fun to be around,” Jack tells him. “And I don't, uh. I feel like I'm keeping you from your life.”

Miley taps a hand against the couch while he figures out what to say—Jack brushes his fingers against him, and he turns his palm up for him to take as he says, “You're a part of my life.”

“The rest of your life,” Jack corrects.

“Oh.” Miley sits up a little straighter. “Well, I guess sometimes I might wanna go by myself, if you don't want to? But not tonight.”

Jack slides down against the armrest with a quiet sigh. “Okay.” 

Miley loosens his hold on Jack's hand and asks tentatively, “Um, unless you wanted to be alone?”

“Ah, not really,” Jack says. “I'm just...exhausted. It's like—anxiety hangover, eh?”

“Oh, yeah! Definitely.” Miley taps the fingers of the hand Jack is holding, lacing them through Jack's grip. “What helps usually?”

Jack hums. “I'm not sure that I do anything specific. Just relaxing.”

“We could take a bath and watch stim videos,” Miley suggests. “That usually helps me when I get, like, really overwhelmed.”

“Okay.” Jack chuckles, then asks, “Can I play with your hair?”

Miley says, “Yes, please,” and hums when Jack runs a quick hand through his hair, more of in a nice, teasing way.

“Should we do that, then?” Jack makes a clucking noise at Muffin and moved his legs out from under him.

“Yeah,” Miley agrees, but he pushes his head up into Jack's hand to ask for more head scritches—Jack laughs again, softly this time, and obliges him. “Um, are you good to start the water? I'll let Cap know we're not coming.”

“Sure.” Jack combs one more pass through Miley's hair and then stands all the way up, wobbling for a second before he steadies. 

Miley waits for him to walk into the bedroom before pulling out his phone. 

**_Milo (4:37 PM):_ ** _ Um, hi. Something came up and we can't come tonight. Will you tell Nelly and maybe not let him call me? :/ _

**_Cap (4:39 PM):_ ** _ Sure bud I'll try. Is everything okay? _

Miley taps his feet against the carpet. 

**_Milo (4:40 PM):_ ** _ Like, mostly? It's pretty personal tho and I just don't wanna get into it _

**_Cap (4:40 PM):_ ** _ Got it _

Miley slides all the way to the floor and closes his eyes. He tries to count to ten, but the phone rings at  _ 7. _

“Hey,” he answers, “I really don't—”

_ “Babes,”  _ Nelly interrupts. “You can't just bail on pizza night.”

Miley gets a text from Benji.

**_Cap (4:43 PM):_ ** _ Sorry _

“I am, though,” Miley points out.

Nelly sighs. “Can't you guys put off the bone-fest for one night?”

**_Milo (4:44 PM)_ ** _ It's okay. Thanks for trying <3 _

“It's not a sex thing,” Miley insists. “Why do you always say it's a sex thing?”

“Uh, cause Zimmermann looks like  _ that _ and you're all,  _ you.” _

Miley blinks really hard at the floor. “That makes no sense.”

“Well why can't you come, then?” Nelly asks.

“I told Benji,” Miley says. “It's personal.”

Nelly sighs again, louder this time. “You know that's cagey as fuck, right? Like, is Zimmermann swerving on Parse and Bits or something, because seriously, Mo, if he can't—”

“Nelly.” Miley tries to keep his voice even. “You're being a dick.”

Silence. Miley checks to make sure the line didn't disconnect.

Nelly says, “I'm worried about you, okay? You're like, literally the most predictable human I know, and suddenly you're bailing on breakfasts and pizza nights for some dick.”

“The insult or the body part?” Miley asks.

Nelly laughs, which is nice. Miley feels kind of itchy. “I mean, both.”

“You don't have to worry about me,” Miley promises. He closes his eyes. “I just, um, I meant it, before? I love him. And I think...I think this is  _ real,  _ Nelly. Maybe forever.”

“Shit,” Nelly says.

Miley laughs without really meaning to. He's not sure what else he's supposed to say.

Nelly says, “You can love the guy and still come to pizza night.”

“I will,” Miley promises, “next time we have one.”

“Okay, okay, fine.” Nelly pauses. “I'm glad you're happy.”

Miley swallows. “Hey, Nelly? Why haven't you been here?”

Nelly doesn't answer right away. His voice is softer, but somehow rougher too. “It'll all be fine, Rook.”

“I know that,” Miley says, but Nelly's already hung up the phone.

He stares at the ended call for a long time, on the edge of understanding something. It won't come, and Nelly maybe doesn't want him to know. But Jack is waiting, and that's a thing Miley can fix.

He gets up and pats Muffin on the head, whispering a  _ thank you, _ and wanders into the master suite. Jack is staring at Miley's collection of bath bombs while the tub steams behind him.

“Hi,” Miley says. “Can I hug you from behind like this?”

Jack's voice is warm and kind of scratchy. “Yeah, I'd like that.”

Miley wraps his arms around Jack's middle and nestles in behind him, tilting his head to press their temples together. 

They don't say anything for a while. Jack picks up a bright pink bath bomb and then puts it back down.

Eventually, he reaches for another one—the Dragon's Egg, which is one of Miley's favorites—and leans back more fully against Miley's chest, and says quietly, “You make me feel better. About being a person.”

There's nothing to say to that. Miley kisses the place where Jack's eye crinkles when he smiles.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on [my Pillowfort](https://www.pillowfort.io/summerfrost) or [Tumblr!](https://www.yoursummerfrost.tumblr.com)
> 
> If you want more of Miley and Jack being kinky little dorks in love, may I recommend [the OMGCP Suitehearts blog](https://omgcp-suitehearts.tumblr.com/)?


End file.
